The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1887-03-19


to lose the heart that had never really
been in Harry's Keeping.
She knew Roy would ask her to I've
his wife, and she had allowed herself
to dream of how happy he could lie
with him with what q blessed sense
OF rest and peace she could creep
into the shelter of his manly arms
and lay her head upon his loving
breast. But now the awakening had
come, and the dream was over. She
had loved him so entirely for him
self. for that great, generous heart of
his that seemed large enough to take
in all mankind as brothers, that she
had not once thought of the differ
ence in their circumstances. for he
WAS rich rs she WAS poor.
Now she had heard her name
coupled with the obnoxious terms
adventures" and "fortune hunter,n
aud the prophecy that "if Mr.. Carl
ton married her he would soon Know,
rs did all others, that it was his
wealth that won her."
She did not know that the remark
had been made expressly for her ear.
had been made, too, with the unut-
tered hope that its barbcd bitterness
might rankle in her heart, for had
she not dared to, kindly hut unmia-
t.kab,y, refused the attentions of the
SWaker'5 son?
K"pnly senitive to the opinions of
others. she might yet have dared
their censure, if this latter suggestion
had not given her pause. She loved
him 40 truly she could not bear that
he should think of her, even for q
moment, rs she thought of Harry
Vance; better that they should part,
at once and forever. This was what
she had told herself, again aud again,
every hour Of that long day and
night.
eff she was sure, quite sure" she
told herself, THAT her willingness to
accept him had not been caused, in
part, at least, and almost uncon
sci0u@Iy to herself, by her intense
hatred Of the drudgery of teaching,
she would not give a thought to
what Others might think, or say, but
she must he sure. quite sure. herself,
then" but the day had been so
Wearying, she was SO tired, she must
have time to think it all out. But
time she Was destined not to have,
for scarcely had the echoes of the
shout of the last emancipated urchin
died away in the distance when Mr..
Carit,n came up to the unpainted
pine desk, where the young teacher
sat with her head bowed upon her
hand.
Her face was so pale. and she did
not look up and smile AS she was
wont To do; her whole attitude was
so suggestive of WEAKNESS, if not of
despair, she was such wee morsel
of humanity, and he was so strong and
manly. that somehow, before he well
knew what he was saying. he was
telling her his passionate longing to
take her into his arms and SHIELD her
henceforth from every discomfort.
She looked up then. with some
thing of the look the hunter some
times sees in the eyes of a wounded
doe, looked up, and crushed the hope
out of his heart with cold refusal.
Then came, for her, the slow agony
of living ON, day after day, knowing
that she had in that hour of weakness
cast aside all that made life worth
living Of walking daily through the
furnace Of trial, with the ghost of her
dead hopes ever reproducing her with
the cOwarCice that put an end to their
bright, but brief existence.
So Two years drifted by, and along
the thnrny pathway that she trod
Eli e Gray learned priceless lessons
of self reliance and courage; learned
to he law unto herself, and, once
having chosen pathway. kLowiug
il to he right, grew strong to follow
it steadfastly to the end, though a
thousand tongues might censure.
Within month after his rejection
Roy left his affairs in the hands of
his steward. TO whom he gave power
of attorney, and went away to the
city. A year passed, and the dishon-
est steward, turning everything ex.
cept the Carlton homestead into
money, gathered his booty and fled /;
aud no one knew RDy's address.
Ellice GRAY knew nothing of this.
When vacation came she had given
up her school, for she could not stay
where everything reminded her OF
Roy. She was teaching in a distant
village. when one morning the post
man brought her letter which PROV
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